Trapdoor in the Sun
by StarsandWheat
Summary: Wasn't one lifetime enough? one-shot set in the changed future. Character death.


AN: So sorry it's been such a long, long time since I posted anything. Life got in the way there for a little while. Anyway I hope you like this, cause I go from loving it to hating it by turns. Could be considered a companion of a kind to 'the light bringer.' as it was written after it and also has seven parts. Set in the new future.

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Dedicated to Sunset Dreamer, who has always been so generous and complimentary of my work.

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**Trapdoor in the Sun**

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'_Wavering between the profit and the loss _

_In this brief transit where the dreams cross, _

_The dreamcrossed twilight between birth and dying…_

_ when the voices shaken from the yew-tree drift away _

_Let the other yew be shaken and reply.'_

_Ash-Wednesday T._

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It is 2026, the day of your birth and your death 23 years before. The sky is clear and the air chilly. The lights of the cars flicker in and out, trailing little bursts over the sea.

Two miles away and below you the restaurant your mother owns has been converted for the night in celebration. There are streamers and balloons and cake. Your family sip champagne and complain about your lateness.

A wound opens in your side, deadly and deep. A flow of blood that will not be stopped.

The stars go on forever.

* * *

It is 2009. You are five years old the world is still ruled by the bright glory of your mother.

You are always surprised by the presence of your father, whom you know cannot be here. Is _Up There _and _Busy_. You know this even as he plays with you, does his crossword in the mornings, sleeps beside your mother at night.

You know he is an elder even as he is a mortal, in a gold robe over shadowed by the black of his headmaster's uniform. You know Daddy as here and nowhere and can't comprehend the difference.

* * *

As you begin to understand, you are nine. There is two of everyone and not all you see is real or has happened or will.

You remember being ten and your brother killing the neighbourhood cats. Fifteen and him killing your aunts. Seventeen and him killing your whole world.

You remember him being two and so tiny and soft. His face pudgy and round and his baby hands not yet coordinated enough to fit the blocks through the holes.

You remember standing above his crib for hours, dagger in hand, trying to find the space to hate him.

You know without experience, no matter what Wyatt does you can't stop him.

* * *

And you are fourteen. It is 2018. Your mother invites the kids from your class to a birthday bash. You can see the blood over the napkins and the bodies strewn among the gifts.

The demon has been dead fifteen years, the first thing the man- who was both you and what you might have been- did when he ran to the past to save the future.

You still breath out a _thanks/prayer/sob_, when the day passes unmarked.

That night you find a scar, shoulder to navel from a fight you won in neither world. It is the only mark your body ever held until that musty day in the attic, all those years ago and you realize with a start that it is not only memories you inherit.

It is 2018 and you are fourteen; shell shocked by the death of a mother who is alive and the way the world has shunken to the span of just eight years.

You can't help but think; _wasn't one lifetime enough?_

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It is September, the dry of autumn everywhere. The touch of a coming frost on it's edge.

There is a family barbecue; your cousins play soccer and tag, while Wyatt and your father cook and the sister hold court in the corner.

Twenty-four years ago and a week from Tuesday, your brother slaughtered the elders and magic school in the first act of his reign.

_Your aunts you find together a mangled heap on the marble floor of the great hall. Wide eyes staring out of ruined faces._

_ Your cousins are laid out behind them. Their tiny fragile bodies, pale flawless skin more terrible than blood could ever be._

_You don't know what happens to your father; Leo you never see again._

Now, you look at them, suncurled laughter in the dusk. The soft glow of your mother's cheeks at some stray comment of Phoebe's. Wyatt, beer in hand, wearing a _kiss the cook_ apron and turning the onions.

And you think; o_kay, for this? You can have two._

* * *

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You meet Bianca Phoenix in the summer of 2024. She is trying to kill you and there has never been anything more beautiful in the world.

Your brother thinks your crazy, when you insist on saving her. You claim empathy and close your tongue to more candid replies about dark lords and their assassins. Rebel leaders and their girlfriends. About telekinesis and a broken table and how Wyatt owes you the life of Bianca Phoenix Your brother doesn't owe you anything anymore.

At the end of it all, she kisses you; fierce and questioning and you close your eyesand think about befores and maybes and everything your still losing.

Bianca slips back out of your life, like something inevitable and already too morned.

You wish her love and light and glory. All the years she never had before.

* * *

It is 2026.

Wyatt says,"don't be late." in his big brother voice.

He worries about you, drifting around your degree, partnerless, directionless. He thinks this birthday party will cheer you up.

The world weighs. The moments trickle out like bubbles, rising and bursting.

You think about the bridge and how you will go, alone in the dark. You think of all the things that will never be said. Everything you have given so this man can be.

_I love you, I forgive you, I hope you are happy._

You grin at him and lie. "Of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

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fin.

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yeah, so please review and tell me what you think?

S&W


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